


slowly, and then all at once

by deathsweetqueen



Series: Stony Bingo 2018 [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Explicit Sexual Content, Hotel Sex, Jealous Steve, Jealousy, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Tony Stark, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Steve, STONY Bingo 2018, Self-Lubrication, Smut, Stony Bingo, Top Steve Rogers, everyone is happy and living in the Avengers Tower, exasperated Tony, expensive hotel rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 01:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16231889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: Steve is not happy at all.Tony had roped him into tagging along to this fundraiser, hoping that his aw shucks grin and holier-than-thou morals would at least guilt some of these socialites into opening up their wallets and donating handsomely, but had promptly deserted him the moment they escaped the swarm of cameras that awaited them when they stepped out of the limousine.And now Tony’s standing there, right across the room, talking to some alpha who’s too busy checking out the figure that Tony cuts in his suit to actually pay attention to what his omega is even saying.Douchebag, he grumbles, uncharitably.





	slowly, and then all at once

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "distraction" square on my Stony Bingo card.
> 
> This is my first time writing ABO dynamics, so please, be kind. It doesn't contain anything too ambitious, just simple heat sex and jealous Steve, so enjoy!
> 
> The title for this fic comes from John Green's The Fault in Our Stars.

Steve is not happy at all.

Tony had roped him into tagging along to this fundraiser, hoping that his _aw shucks_ grin and holier-than-thou morals would at least guilt some of these socialites into opening up their wallets and donating handsomely, but had promptly deserted him the moment they escaped the swarm of cameras that awaited them when they stepped out of the limousine.

And now Tony’s standing there, right across the room, talking to some alpha who’s too busy checking out the figure that Tony cuts in his suit to actually pay attention to what his omega is even saying.

 _Douchebag_ , he grumbles, uncharitably.

But, frankly, it’s a testament to his patience and how much he adores his omega that he isn’t storming over there like some knothead (like the one currently having the pleasure of Tony’s company) and pulling Tony away like he owns him.

“Captain Rogers, we just wanted to say how _amazing_ we thought you were in last week’s battle with the Doombots. We watched the whole thing on TV, and you were just so… talented with throwing your shield,” a beta boy gushes to him, fluttering his eyelashes. “You really saved our skin.”

Steve looks down at his feet before meeting the boy’s eyes. “Well, thank you for saying that, sir. I know that all of the Avengers appreciate civilian gratitude,” he says, a little formally, because he sees the way the boy has his hips cocked to one side, his lips heavy with gloss and parted like he’s trying to draw attention to them.

He also looks like he can’t be older than sixteen, and he doesn’t know if the boy has approached him of his own free will, or someone older and more knowledgeable has put him up to this.

In any case, even if he didn’t have Tony, even if Tony wasn’t walking around proudly bearing his bonding mark, he still wouldn’t be turning his attention on someone who looks entirely too young to be looking at him the way he is currently.

As if reading his mind, Tony catches his eyes across the ballroom, winking at him conspiratorially, without even breaking off his conversation with the douchebag Alpha.

Steve shakes his head, a fond smile blossoming on his face. He, then, clears his throat and looks at the beta boy.

“If you’ll excuse me, there are some obligations I have to attend to,” he says politely to the boy and his friends who have flocked around him, and backs away until he’s striding purposefully to the bar.

When he turns around, Tony is still talking to the douchebag, but has half of his body turning towards him, so that Steve can see everything. Most specifically, it’s so that Steve can see the way Tony’s tugging at his collar every now and then, revealing the purple bonding mark painted on his neck.

Fuck.

Steve swallows hard, as his cock hardens.

One of Tony’s long, thin, piano fingers runs across the bruise, elegantly, and Steve wonders if it makes Tony shiver on the inside, if it’s enough to make him wet and aching.

But Tony is still talking to that damned Alpha.

 _Evil_ , he thinks.

His omega is evil.

Tony’s head turns in his direction, briefly, and he winks again.

Steve shakes his head.

He orders a scotch from the bartender even though it doesn’t actually do anything for him anymore, just needing something dry and bitter to distract him from the attractive picture that his omega displays. He downs it in a single gulp and the burn fades almost immediately, leaving a flat, empty feeling in his stomach.

A hand smooths across his back over the tuxedo that Tony had strongarmed him into wearing.

Steve doesn’t even need to turn his head to know that only Tony is brave enough to touch him like that.

“What’s shaking, bacon?” Tony drawls.

Steve shoots him an unimpressed look.

Tony hangs his head, sighing. “And why are you so grumpy?” he asks, wearily.

“I _hate_ it here,” Steve says, petulantly. “I want to go home.”

“God,” Tony groans. “You sound like such a child,” he snaps.

“I can’t help it,” Steve protests. He scuffs the toe cap of his shoe against the floor. “It makes me feel like a dancing monkey for the USO all over again.”

Tony softens and runs a hand up the length of Steve’s considerable forearm, threading his fingers through Steve’s.

“I know, babe,” he soothes. “Look, it’s almost over. Let’s just stay for like an hour or so, and then we can go home. Continue with your _catching up with the modern times_ list. We’re up to the 1970s now, aren’t we?”

Steve nods and feels like shit straight after. He hates playing this card, not because it makes him look like some yellow-belly, but because he doesn’t like manipulating Tony into doing what he wants (not that Tony is so easily malleable, even by him – alpha or not, Tony can and will kick him in the balls and happily satisfy himself for the rest of his life with a vibrator).

“So,” Steve begins, casually. “Who was that alpha you were you talking to?”

“Oh, just some high-end property developer,” Tony explains. “He’s thinking about converting this little residential home he has into a halfway house for victims escaping family violence in Queens.”

“You seemed pretty interested in what he had to say,” Steve agrees.

“Yeah, he had this cool idea about- _wait a minute_ ,” Tony narrows his eyes. “Wow, you are like the worst actor ever. Why did they even let you work for the USO? You’re so shit at it.”

“Hey!” Steve exclaims, offended.

“Oh, please,” Tony retorts. “You are so transparent. Your face was all twisted up when you brought him up, your jaw could cut glass in a more vicious way than normal, and you were clearly hinting at something. And you even made that dig about me being _pretty interested in what he had to say_ ,” he mocks.

“Well, you were!”

Tony rolls his eyes. “This is because he’s an alpha, isn’t it?”

“Of course not,” Steve denies, unconvincingly.

“Again, you’re so shit at this, Steve. Please stick to your day job of punching monsters with your guns of steel.”

Steve exhales. “It’s _not_ because he’s an alpha,” he insists.

“It _so_ is,” Tony says, gleefully. “But it’s okay. I secretly love your petty side. It makes me feel better about my own failings. As long as you don’t take this possessive alpha shtick too far, ‘cause then I’d have to fuck you up, bonded alpha or not.”

“Wow, see, this is why I’m in love with you, Tony. You always say the sweetest things to me,” Steve says, dryly.

Tony shrugs. “Just keeping it real, babe.” He rests an elbow on the bar top, cocking his hips outward. “So, you were jealous?” he teases.

“I was _not_ jealous,” Steve insists.

“Bullshit,” Tony scolds. “You were giving me serious bedroom eyes the whole time, by the way; don’t think I missed it.”

“I was _not_ giving you bedroom eyes!”

“You so were, but it’s okay. It’s super adorable. You really didn’t like me talking to that alpha, huh?”

“It’s just…” Steve sighs. “You were talking to him like you were really interested in what he had to say, and you kept looking back at him and baring your bonding mark and stroking over it and well…” He cuts himself off, flushing right down to his neck.

“Oh, my God,” Tony cackles. “You’re hard, aren’t you?”

“Shut up,” Steve complains and shifts awkwardly, very much aware of how his cock rubs up against his slacks and wells with pre-come.

“Never.” Tony shakes his head. “I am _never_ letting you live this down, understood?”

“Understood,” Steve sighs, resigned.

“But on a serious note,” Tony’s voice lowers. “Please don’t tell me you actually thought something was going to happen between me and that alpha?”

“No!” Steve protests, shaking his head. “God, no. Come on, Tony, you know I’d never think anything like that, not about you. I mean, about him, yes, but we didn’t bond lightly, and I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t have bonded with me unless you were sure I was the only person you wanted to have sex with.”

“A little _less_ romantic than I was going for, but I’ll take it,” Tony says, dryly.

Steve rolls his eyes and pulls Tony close. “You know what I meant,” he says, quietly.

“Yeah,” Tony murmurs.

“He was interested in you and while I know you’d never take him up on his inevitable offer, it’s just… well, it’s not easy to see other people want you, even when they see my mark on you,” Steve explains, lamely.

Tony sighs. “But it doesn’t matter what other people think or do, Steve. The only thing that matters is what the two of _us_ think or do. And if you know I don’t want anyone else but you, that we’re both equally committed to our bonding, then what’s the problem if some delusional, Casanova-type alpha hits on me?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know why it bothers me so much.” He grins. “Maybe I never quite evolved from that all those primal alpha urges that you make fun of?”

“I mean, if you’re not serious about it or thinking that I’m going to screw around you, I don’t really mind it,” Tony says, casually. “As long as I get to benefit from it in some way.”

Steve swallows hard. “What kind of benefit were you thinking?” he asks, lightly.

“Well, there are like a thousand hotel rooms above this floor. What do you say we make use of one?” Tony waggles his eyebrows, not-so-subtly.

“Fine,” Steve’s lips twitch. “But _I’m_ paying this time,” he insists.

Tony sighs. “If you must. Although, if this is another primal alpha urge thing you were talking about, we’re going to have a serious talk about-”

Whatever Tony was about to say is abruptly cut off when Steve snatches his wrist and drags him away from the bar, towards the exit.

“Wait, wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Tony hisses, pulling him aside. “I told you, an hour and then we leave.”

Steve stares at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Tony raises an eyebrow.

Steve sighs. “You’re not kidding,” he says, resigned.

Tony beams and pats him on the cheek. “That’s my guy. Now, come on. I’ll introduce you to the knothead you were glaring at all night.”

“What?” Steve yelps. “No. No, no, no. Did I mention _no_?”

“Come on, don’t be such a scaredy cat,” Tony scoffs, swatting him on the chest. “I’ll even let you flex your giant muscles at him if it’ll make you feel better, but I want that damn halfway house.”

“Okay,” Steve mutters, letting Tony lead him away by the hand (he thinks he’d follow Tony anywhere). “But only if I get to flex my muscles,” he says, satisfied.

* * *

Steve hates this alpha.

Honestly, he didn’t think he was capable of hating anyone, but he _hates_ , absolutely _hates_ this alpha.

If only Tony wouldn’t get cross at him for making a scene, he’d pop him right in the face, lay him out on the ground and carry Tony out of there over his shoulder like a caveman.

But Tony would get cross, and when Tony gets cross, he gets mean – mean, like he’d tie Steve down and ride his cock until he comes and then leave Steve hanging (granted, Steve enjoys himself nonetheless, but it’s just a pain lying there with an erection while Tony settles himself in the armchair and starts flipping through his tablet like nothing’s going on).

“I’d love to meet you in private sometime, hash out of some of these details,” the alpha offers, suggestively, to Tony, whose eyes tighten just a little at the corners, a sign that he’s already recognised the blatant flirting and is so not impressed, considering he’s been flashing his mulberry-purple bonding mark to anyone who cares to look (and the alpha _must_ have seen it, considering he hasn’t stopped with his laser focus _all fucking night_ ).

Steve’s done. He’s so fucking done.

He turns to Tony. “You said we had to wait an hour,” he states, plainly. “It’s been an hour, Tony. Let’s go.”

“Steve!” Tony hisses, mortified, shooting the knothead an apologetic look, which just worsens Steve’s mood.

“You said an _hour_. It’s been an hour. We’re going,” he says, firmly.

Tony stares at him down, before finally slumping forward. “I said an hour, didn’t I?” he sighs. “Okay, fine, let’s go, you overgrown child.”

Steve preens when Tony takes him by the hand and leads him out of the function room, marching his way to the lobby. He stops just short of the front desk and looks at him, expectantly.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“You promised me a hotel room,” Tony says, slowly.

“Actually, to be fair, you were the one who brought that up,” Steve points out, slyly.

“Wow, you really aren’t winning any points tonight, are you?” Tony says, sarcastically. “Go and get us a room, you lech.”

“Fine,” Steve sighs. “Come on, then.”

Tony sniffs but nonetheless follows him to the front desk. The young woman behind the counter raises her head from the computer and smiles, the red lipstick on her mouth stretching seamlessly. She twitches a little when she realises who she’s about to assist, but she recovers quickly.

“Evening, Captain Rogers, Mr Stark, how can I help you tonight?” she asks, politely.

“We’d, uh, actually like a room, if you’ve got one,” Steve says, sheepishly, because he’s pretty sure the nice receptionist knows exactly what they plan on doing inside that hotel room.

The receptionist nods and looks down at her screen, typing something quickly. A frown forms across her face and Steve’s stomach drops in dread.

“Unfortunately, we only have one room left tonight.”

“Oh,” Steve exclaims in relief. “Well, we’ll take that one.”

The receptionist bites her lip. “It’s the presidential suite,” she explains. “It costs four thousand dollars per night.”

Steve stills. “You’re joking,” he says, flatly.

“I’m sorry,” she says, regretfully. “But that is our only room available at such short notice. Unfortunately, there’s a marketing conference in town right now, and we’re fully booked.”

Steve sighs and looks at Tony, expectantly.

“What are you looking at me for?” Tony holds his hands up in the air. “You were the one who said you wanted to pay.” He narrows his eyes. “And I am _not_ a cheap date, Rogers.”  

Steve hangs his head.

_It should be fucking illegal to charge this much for a room for a single night._

“We’ll take the room,” he tells the receptionist, all subdued.

She smiles. “I’ll just put your name in, if you give me your card.”

Steve fishes in the back pocket of his tuxedo pants for his wallet, handing her a black platinum card which continues to boggle him. “Highway robbery, that’s what this is,” he grumbles.

“God, you’re already a lech; do you have to be such a grandpa too?” Tony complains. “Next, you’ll be talking about how _in my day, we paid nine dollars to stay in a nice hotel like this and we complained about it then too_.”

“Well, we _did_ ,” Steve insists.

Tony makes a noise of exasperation and gives the receptionist a look that means something along the lines of _do you believe I have to put up with this guy?_

Steve thinks of the way that Tony’s head lolls back onto the pillow and his arms and legs turn to jelly and how he can’t even do anything much more than to just lie there after Steve’s done licking him out and he thinks, _yes, you do have to put up with me_.

The receptionist hides her smile at their old-married-couple banter by focusing on entering Steve’s details into the hotel’s system. Soon after, she hands Steve his credit card, along with two other sleek key cards for their room.

“When you insert the key card into the elevator, it’ll know where it’s supposed to go, so you shouldn’t run into anyone else on your way up,” the receptionist whispers, conspiratorially.

Steve can’t help but blush at the insinuation, much to Tony’s amusement beside him. But clearly, his omega is impatient, because he quickly delivers his thanks to the receptionist before dragging Steve insistently towards the elevator, his deft, mechanic fingers snatching one of the cards out of Steve’s palm before he even knows what’s going on.

The doors part for them with a shrill sound, and they step inside. Tony inserts the key card between his fingers into the slot below the column of floor number buttons, prompting the doors to close behind them.

When they’re completely alone in this voluminous elevator, Tony fists his hands in the lapels of Steve’s tuxedo.

“Get over here, you jealous lug,” he mutters, yanking him down without much ceremony, so that their mouths meet in a collision.

Steve manages to make a sound of surprise before everything else is muffled by Tony’s tongue licking its way into his mouth. It’s almost like second nature to crowd Tony against the wall, making sure he isn’t discomfited by the railing spanning the four walls, and he lets Tony do whatever he wants – untuck his shirt out of his slacks, slide cold hands under the cotton even if it makes a shudder ring right through him, and hike himself up the wall so that he can hook a leg over Steve’s hip.

Steve holds him close, covering the small of his back with his broad palms, thumbs slotting into the dip of his pelvic bone, as the air grows thick with lust and Tony’s omega scent, which has him hard and leaking with pre-come already inside his slacks (granted, he’d been hard for pretty much the entire evening). He knows it wouldn’t take much to turn Tony around, bend him over against the elevator wall, pull down their slacks and fuck into him, knowing that his omega is already wet and clenching and ready for him.

But he likes to think he has at least more class than that.

At least, Sarah Rogers taught him to treat his omega much better than that.

So, he keeps it to just kissing, even if he knows Tony would have him, right here, right now, judging by the hard cock pressing against his abdomen and the way that Tony shamelessly grabs at his arse over his slacks.

Thankfully, the elevator doesn’t take long to reach the presidential suite (the one that he fucking paid four thousand dollars and no, he is most certainly not harbouring a grudge), and in fact, it opens right into the suite, without a further need for their key cards. 

It’s a broad, spacious area with glass walls looking out onto the brilliance that is the Manhattan skyline in the middle of the night. The furniture is sleek and minimalist, in pale, muted tones, but Steve doesn’t have enough time to focus on the aesthetic appeal of his heavy purchase because Tony is too busy dragging him in the opposite direction, towards the colossal-sized bedroom.

When they reach the bedroom, Tony abruptly releases Steve and turns his back to him. Without further conversation, he starts unbuttoning his tuxedo shirt, slipping it and his jacket off his shoulders, while his fingers go to his belt. Steve is just a spectator, albeit a content one, as his omega strips, right then and there, for him, until he’s completely naked and that arse is right there, ready for him to grope at and part and sink his teeth into like a ripe peach.

As if he knows the thoughts in Steve’s head, Tony turns around with a smirk on his face.

“Well?” he drawls.

Then, he promptly bends over the side of the bed and shakes his arse at Steve, in a way that makes him equally want to laugh and cry with longing.

“Isn’t it a little…” Steve scrunches up his face. “I don’t know, demeaning?”

Tony turns his head to look at him over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Have I ever _said_ that I find it demeaning?” he demands.

“Well, no,” Steve admits, grudgingly.

“Do _you_ find it demeaning?” Tony asks, pointedly.

“Well, no.”

“Then, I don’t see what the problem is.”

Steve sighs. “Forget it.”

“Now, hurry up and take your clothes off.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Boy, that was sure romantic,” he says, sarcastically.

He can practically _feel_ how much Tony wants to punch him in the dick for saying that, so he quickly divests himself of his tuxedo and kicks the clothes away. His cock is already hard, curving up to his belly, the head flushed a dark red as it spills over with pre-come, which leaves shiny streaks on his muscled abdomen.

He palms it, just to keep himself on that edge, while he steps forward, until his knees are pressed up against Tony’s bare thighs. He smooths a hand over the curve of Tony’s hip and smiles at the way a shudder rings through Tony, who leans into the touch and Steve’s warmth. He leans down, brushing his mouth quickly against the nape of Tony’s neck. He nuzzles into Tony’s thickening scent and resists the urge to lick at his pulse point so that he can get that scent onto his tongue.

“Hurry up,” Tony all but whines.

Steve chuckles, the sound coming out like a rumble against Tony’s back.

“What’s your rush?”

He can’t quite see it, but he knows that Tony’s scowling into the sheets.

“I’m horny and wet, and you’re teasing me. So, yeah, I’m in a rush.”

Steve bites back another laugh, knowing that it won’t be taken well, and the hand that’s gripping Tony’s hip moves along the base of his spine, fingers dragging over the sensitive skin of the small of his back, which makes Tony go taut. The hand slides between his legs, from where there’s already a slow trickle of slick that leaves his thighs wet.

Steve swallows hard, dipping his fingers in the mess. “You’re, uh, you’re really wet, sweetheart. Way wetter than you usually are.”

“Oh, yeah, I think I’m in heat,” Tony says, casually.

“What?” Steve yelps. “You’re-you’re in a heat, and you still wanted to come to this thing anyway?”

“Well, yeah,” Tony says, offended. “I made a commitment; there are some commitments I _do_ honour, you know.”

“But you’re in _heat_!” Steve whines.

“So?” Tony raises an eyebrow. “If an alpha got a little too handsy, I’m fully prepared to go all Michael Myers on his arse.” He taps the watch on his right hand that Steve knows he can easily reshape into a gauntlet if need be, which dulls the heavy, indignant weight in Steve’s stomach.

“I’m not okay with this,” Steve warns.

“Too bad, so sad,” Tony says, playfully.

“You are a pain,” Steve moans. “Why do I even put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Tony says, shamelessly. “Plus, my arse is a gift from the gods and you love sticking your cock inside me.”

Steve cheeks go hot. “You don’t have to be so crude,” he complains.

“I do when you’re _taking too long_ ,” Tony stresses and shakes his arse out at him once more.

“Poor baby,” Steve teases. “You want my cock, huh.”

“I always want your cock. I will _kill_ you for your cock if that’s what it takes. Now, be a good alpha and stop teasing your heat-stricken omega.”

“As you wish.”

“God, am I regretting showing you that movie.”

Steve presses his mouth to the warm skin behind Tony’s ear, where his scent is thick and heady. His cock becomes impossibly hard, as he grinds the length against the damp juncture between Tony’s thighs. He wraps a hand around the base and gives himself a lazy upward stroke, remembering the unwavering, slick heat of Tony the night they came together for the first time, how it felt to have him wrapped around his cock, to sink his teeth into Tony’s neck and blotch the smooth, tanned skin with his bonding mark.

Tony is gushing plenty of slick, so it’s a simple enough feat to slide inside his body, without any resistance, right to the base. He rumbles in satisfaction, the sound punching out of him like a rough groan, and he smooths a hand over Tony’s hip, as Tony trembles underneath him. He doesn’t know what it feels like for Tony, having been an alpha all his life and having only had one bed partner in his entire life, but he prays that coming together like this is just as beautiful and gratifying as it is for him.

If there ever was a reason why God wanted him to crash that plane into the ice, it would be because he wanted him to be here, in this hotel room, with Tony wrapped around him, welcoming him inside his body, as close as two people in this world could possibly be.

“Why did you stop?” Tony breathes, pulling Steve away from his thoughts.

Steve runs a thumb across the dip in the base of Tony’s spine. “Sorry, honey,” he murmurs, but stays still for just a moment longer, revelling in where his omega is so warm and tight and not wanting to rut inside him like some selfish knothead.

But his self-control only goes so far, unfortunately.

Tony reaches back to grip at his hip once Steve begins to move inside him, a gentle, but fierce rhythm to their lovemaking, even in the throes of Tony’s heat – they had their ‘non-vanilla sexy times’, as Tony put it, just as Steve presumed any other couple had, but they both found those times made better experiences when Tony wasn’t distracted by the cramping in his stomach or the relentless slick leaking out of him, or when Steve wasn’t overwhelmed by the rush of sharp heat scent coming from his omega that wasn’t exactly easy to ignore.

No, Tony’s heats are about them and them alone; there’s no need for fancy tricks or performances; all Steve wants to do is give Tony some relief, keep him close for a little while, touch him like he’s precious, like he means everything and more to him.

Steve doesn’t need or want anything more than that.

He doesn’t care if it makes him sound like a sappy wreck, but he dares anyone to love and live with Tony Stark and think any differently (which, of course, wouldn’t happen because it’ll be a cold day in hell when he lets someone pull Tony away from him without a miserable fucking fight).

He starts rutting into his omega at some point, his hands slotting into the dip of Tony’s pelvic bone seamlessly, like his body was made for him. The thrusts come out sharp and persistent, hitting that little sliver of cells inside Tony that makes him gush like a fountain, turning the bedsheets beneath them into a sopping mess that neither of them will ever be ashamed about, even if the hotel has no other choice to throw the sheets out once they leave.

Tony is sensitive during his heat, aching for it even if he’d never actually voice his need, and it’s easy enough to turn him into a writhing mass of nerve endings below him, his hands gripping at the bed posts as he’s rolled across the mattress with each thrust.

One of Steve’s hands leaves Tony’s hip, sliding underneath his belly to wrap around the base of Tony’s cock, jerking him off quickly as he feels his own end approaching as well. He thumbs the head where pre-come is dripping, while Tony moans his name into the bedsheet. His other hand moves to Tony’s hair, running his fingers through the dark, thick strands, until Tony turns his head, eyes like dark, little pinpricks. Tony gropes for Steve’s hand, kissing his palm briefly, and terrifying amount of fondness curls in Steve’s bones, something that could never be pulled out of him.

“Almost there,” Tony moans.

“Me too,” he replies, gruffly.

When Steve’s cock catches his prostate next, Tony turns pliant and lissom as a kitten, something which Steve would never see out of his heat days (because Tony is an independent omega _who don’t need no alpha_ ), and a low whine breaks out of his throat.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Tony shouts as he comes hard, in thick, white streaks onto Steve’s palm, while clenching around his cock like his life depends on it.

His orgasm has Steve’s coming as well, and he falters, groaning roughly into the back of Tony’s neck, spilling deep inside him.

For just a moment, they stay like that, bent over the bed in a four-thousand-dollar hotel suite, in a mess made of sweat, slick and come, but Steve is trembling all the way down to his fingers and toes and he can feel Tony underneath him shaking just as much.

He smooths a hand down Tony’s spine, and almost immediately regrets the action.

Tony shoves his hand away, unceremoniously. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that!” he gasps.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Steve moans, burying his face in Tony’s sweat-damp hair and inhaling his scent, visceral and sweet and tinged with a certain earthiness that he knows his own alpha scent blending in with his mate.

 _Fuck_ , if he thought he had another one in him right now, he’d be fucking into Tony all over again, with Tony’s say-so, of course.

Steve grits his teeth when he pulls free of Tony’s body, the head of his cock catching on Tony’s rim, and leans down to kiss Tony once more, before stumbling into the ensuite, on still-shaky legs.

He’s taken blows from Chitauri, Doombots and the Red Skull, yet making love with Tony is enough to make him want to lie on the ground and slip peacefully into death, or at the very least, sleep for a year.

He comes back to the bedroom, a damp washcloth held in one hand, only to find Tony slumped on the bed, on his back, his head lolling aimlessly, as he stares up at the canopy. Steve softens, approaching his omega, and takes turns balancing each foot on his thigh so he can sluice the come and slick from their bodies until they’re both clean and dry.

“So,” he begins, casually, lying down on the bed beside him. “How’d I do?”

“Ten stars, would definitely recommend to a friend,” Tony says, his voice thick with almost-sleep. “Only not, because you’re mine.”

Steve laughs. “I’m glad,” he murmurs, letting Tony nestle against his side, his noise jutting into Steve’s collarbone.

Steve smooths back Tony’s hair in a gentle, recurring rhythm, knowing that Tony welcomes the softness so soon after sex, especially since he’ll become uncomfortable and aching all over again in a few hours.

Minutes pass and both are on the edge of sleep.

“I can’t believe I had to spend four thousand on this room,” Steve suddenly declares.

“Oh, my God, Steve,” Tony groans, smacking a hand across his eyes. “Let it the fuck go!”

“I can’t! It’s fucking unconscionable, okay,” Steve snaps.

“For fuck’s sake. I can’t believe I mated with such a dinosaur,” Tony complains and covers his face with a plush pillow, turning onto his side. “I take it back. You’re a sucky heat partner. I want my vibrator back.”

 


End file.
